The Last Time
by ShinyFab
Summary: Kara Thrace retreated to a dark corner of the ship, like a dog with its tail between its legs.


**1.**

Kara Thrace retreated to a dark corner of the ship, like a dog with its tail between its legs. Her chest ached from the force of her dry, racking sobs. In her head, she could see images of Kasey, joyfully clutching her mother (her real mother), disappearing into the throngs of refugees. They re-played over and over, like a recording set on auto-play. When she felt the familiar tremble of the FTL building she realized it was over, all over, and they were on the run again. As the jump made the ship shudder, she screamed into the space between here and there. The terrifying reality was she wanted desperately to go back.

She hoped the jump would somehow kill her.

Sometime in the middle of the night she wandered back to the deck where the refugees slept, their slow breaths sounding like an ocean wind. Grabbing an extra blanket tossed near a ladder, she bedded down on the cold deck for the night. She softly whispered a lullaby as she lay on her side looking out over the sea of people, brushing her hand over her belly to try and quiet the erratic kicks inside it.

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Long lines of ragged people too tired to care about the wait stretched across the deck the next morning. Kara huddled in her sweatshirt, hood pulled up to hide her face. She had managed to elude Sam last night and she hoped she wouldn't run into anyone who knew her before as Starbuck. For once, she prayed for anonymity. It seemed the Gods just weren't going to listen this time.

"Captain." Cottle stood in front of her, clipboard in hand. "What are you doing here? I thought you would have gone with the other personnel when they were recalled to duty this morning."

"Hey doc," she said, attempting a friendly smile and failing. "I just thought I'd stay here for a while. You know. Take in the sights and sounds of running for our lives." She gestured around her.

Cottle appraised her for a moment, mouth set in a hard line. "I see you're just as sunny as ever."

She shoved her hands into her pockets and shrugged. "You know me." He gave her a hard look.

"What the hell are you still doing here? I'm going to have to tell them where you are if you don't get your ass up to see the CAG right frakking now, Captain."

Her trademark smirk faltered for a moment before broadening into a sick, overbright grin. Trying to stave off the panic, she shrugged again. "I'll get right on that, _Sir_. Shouldn't be standing in line if I'm needed to fend off Cylons." Razor sharp bitterness edged her voice, but she didn't care.

Cottle looked at her for a moment with something close to sympathy in his eyes. Then he dug around in his pocket before pulling out a lighter and a beat up cigarette packet. Pulling out a half-used cigarette Cottle carefully lit the end.

"You done?" he asked. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She sighed dramatically, sending Cottle's eyebrows near his hairline. "Whatever," she said rolling her eyes. It was his turn to smirk.

"Well all right then. But since I'm here and so are you, let's go over your basics." He tapped a pen against his clipboard. Kara jerked back as she realized what he was asking. Her hands whipped out of their own accord. Eyes narrowed, he watched her fingers tremble and flex across the suddenly obvious rounding of her abdomen. Without another word Cottle flipped the clipboard over. Carefully as though handling glass, he stubbed out the end of his cigarette. Blowing on it to make sure it was out, he returned it to its beat up packet in his jacket pocket.

"You know the way." His voice was low, somewhere between an order and a hope.

She nodded. "Yeah, I know the way."

They made their way off the deck, Cottle trailed close behind her not trusting her not to flee, but feeling as though, should she try, he might not want to stop her.

**2.**

Life Station was close to chaos, which is to say slightly better than the day of the escape. People and a few beds spilled down the hallway, the air around them permeated with the scent of cold dust and exhaustion. Everyone seemed to be talking at once: pleas for meds or water, moans of pain, children crying. It was deafening. The Life Station staff, usually unflappable, looked haggard and desperate. Carefully making their way among the crowd, Cottle and Kara finally arrived at the actual entrance to Life Station. A nurse looked up to object to their intrusion, shadowed eyes without any fight really in them, then he barely nodded acknowledgement before turning to beg a small girl to hold still as he sutured her hand.

"This way." Cottle tugged her by the elbow into his office at the very back. "Make yourself some space." He gestured toward the desk. "Take off the sweatshirt. Be right back." He ducked back out the office door.

Kara dropped files and papers onto the floor before heaving herself up onto the desk. She looked around at the small cramped office as she unzipped and shrugged out of her sweatshirt. There was only one photo in the room, on top of a cabinet against the wall. It was an old style picture of a gorgeous dusky-skinned woman, dark hair pulled back in a fashionable chignon. It had never occurred to her that the doctor might have once had a family. Cottle stepped back into the room carrying a box of rubber gloves and a sheet. She shivered.

"Can we hurry this up? I'm freezing my ass off in here." A grunt was her only reply.

Legs of his stethoscope pressed firmly in place, he pressed the cold round pad against her chest and said "Deep breath." Trying to stop shivering, she breathed in once and again as he moved the pad around her chest and then to her back. "Good," he murmured. He pulled up her shirt to reveal her belly. Instinctively she moved to shield it from him. "Captain," he started. "Kara. I'm just going to listen to your baby." She knew the fear shined brightly in her eyes. She tried not to loathe herself for it. "You're fine." He had placed his hand over hers where it rested on her swollen belly. Cottle stood looking her in the eye, hand cupping her stomach. "You're fine," he said again. She gritted her teeth and forced herself not to cry.

Forty-five minutes later she was pulling her pants back on while Cottle pulled off rubber gloves and tossed them into a waste basket. "Everything looks good. From the looks of it, I'd say you're almost six months along." She stilled.

"Are you sure?" she asked in a whisper.

"I'll need to run the blood sample, but I'd say it's pretty certain." He paused. "Did they know?"

"I don't know. They never said anything. I didn't even know, not for sure. Not until I felt it kick."

"I see."

Kara finished buttoning her pants and reached for her sweatshirt. "I'll have to file a report," he said.

She nodded. "I know." They both stood still for what felt like eternity.

"Exercise, nothing strenuous though. Keep it to walking. Make sure you eat enough. I've got some vitamins for you. Take them. If you don't, I'll know. I want to see you in here once a week. No flying Vipers. Once you get into the eighth month you probably should avoid shuttle rides too, just in case you go into labor. You'll need to be close to proper medical attention. No caffeine, alcohol, smoking, fighting, and watch the stress levels."

"Frak doc, you take all the fun out of life."

He snorted. "Why do you think I became a doctor? Now get the hell out of here. Go report to your CO. I've got work to do."

Even though she knew the jig was up, she walked the corridors with her hood pulled up. She wanted to remain one of the unknown masses for just a little bit longer, but it soon came to an end as she found herself at the bunk room door. This was it. Dragging her hood off she pushed open the hatch. The bunk room was crammed full. Pilots huddled over the small table in the middle of the room whispering in hushed voices while some slept. To her right a curtain was pulled tightly shut. Whoever lay behind them was either laughing softly – or crying.

"Where the frak have you been Captain?" a familiar voice sneered at her. Kat swaggered over to her. "Didn't you hear the call to report this morning? Or were you just to frakkin' hungover?" Her hands were trying to ball into fists inside her sweatshirt pockets, urging her to punch the smirk right off Kat's face. A flutter against her hand reminded her why she couldn't.

Kara's lips stretched back into a bitter, feral grin. "Sorry I couldn't show up in time to keep you entertained Kat. I was a little busy trying not to die when you _left us down there_," she hissed. "Maybe next time you want to gloat about playing the cowardly hero I can show up when you want me to."

Kat's face turned purple and ugly with anger, her body tensing in an all too familiar way. "I wouldn't do that Kat. Trust me." Without realizing it, Kara had crouched low ready to knock Kat off balance if necessary. To her shocked relief, Hot Dog (of all the frakkin' people) pushed between them.

"Knock it off. I want to sleep sometime soon and you two give me nightmares.

"Starbuck!" It took her a second to recognize the name. "Your bunk's still open."

He jerked his head toward the other end of the bunk room. The curtains stood open, folded blanket and old thread-bare pillow right where she left them in the middle of the mattress.

"Uh, thanks Hot Dog." She flashed him a smile, the first genuine one she had given in a very long time.

**3.**

"Everyone out. Now." She knew the voice meant everyone _but_ her. So she stayed rolled toward the bulkhead with eyes closed, listening to the scurry of people out the bunk room hatch.

"Kara. Come out." His voice was soft in the suddenly silent room. "We need to talk."

"Yeah, we do," she said. Time was up. She rolled over carefully and pushed the curtains open. Her body ached all over from the long night she spent on the deck floor. Slowly sitting up, she stretched trying to work out the kinks. Blinking from the bright light she saw him sitting on the bench directly in front of her.

"I can't believe you managed to clear that many people out of here that quickly. That's sweet of you."

Lee sat with his elbows on his knees, forehead propped on his hands. They sat in silence. Kara listened to the steady thrum of the ship feeling comforted by its nearness. Her eyes followed the contours of the skin on his arms.

"Is it mine?"

"Yeah," she said without hesitation. He looked up at her quick reply. "Sam can't. Went too long back on Caprica without radiation meds. He even talked about adopting." Her mind wandered off to focus on vague memories before abruptly snapping back to him.

"Lee, I – "

"I brought you these." He picked up a cloth bundle from the table next to him. "I thought you should have them back. I can't use them." He placed the idols in her lap and stood up. She stared at the sacred objects, remembering the night she had given him her most prized possessions – the night he'd said it was finally over. "I just can't Kara." Lee touched her cheek for a moment, emotions dancing in his eyes. He turned heading for the hatch.

"You don't get it Lee," she said looking down at the package. "This isn't something you can give back." He didn't turn toward her; just stood with his hands on his hips, head bowed.

He shook his head slowly. She watched his neck move languidly. "I can't."

"_Why not?_" She was suddenly, uncontrollably angry. "Why? Because you feel_guilty_? Well get in line Lee. All of us are guilty of something." Her hands clutched at the mattress below her. Within her, their baby began a steady beating of its tiny legs. "Maybe this is our redemption."

"I meant what I said, Kara, when I said it was the last time."

"No you didn't. You wouldn't have taken them if you had." She was trembling. "Don't do this Lee." The steady tattoo in her belly had picked up as though to underscore the impending climax. He finally turned toward her, retracing the few steps back to where she sat.

Lee tipped her chin up to look into the eyes he had been certain he would never see again. "Lee Adama lov – " He broke off inhaling a shallow, jagged breath. The kiss burned their skin, but they held it for a clock-less, expansive moment.

Pulling back he gave her a broken smile. "I'm sorry," he whispered. With one last look, he walked swiftly to the hatch. He stopped with his hand on the latch. "I'm not even really religious Kara. You know that." The hatch swung shut with a harsh clang.

Kara unwrapped the package lovingly to reveal the well rubbed idols. She'd missed them.


End file.
